


Harrison and the Sibling Switch-a-Roo

by Star_less



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adoption, Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Bully Big Brother, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Diapers, Embarrassment, Family Dynamics, Fifteen year old, Forced Infantilism, Gen, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, No Sex, No Smut, Omorashi, Omutsu, Punishment, Siblings, Situational Humiliation, Spanking, Wetting, fifteen year old character, messing, sissification, sissy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: In the far future, the adoption process is vastly different - adoptees are transported immediately to their potential forever home for one week total. When a teenager's adoption process goes wrong and he takes the place of his much younger sister, will he escape - or is he doomed for a life of ponies, princesses and plenty of pink forevermore?Angela laughed softly. “Oh darling, you don’t need them!”Harrison frowned, curling in on himself a little bit. “…I don’t?” he asked, puzzled. “But… but they’re my clothes?”“I don’t want the clothes I got to go to waste.” His new mom opened the wardrobe to reveal – yes, more pink – rows and rows of dresses. Lacy, frilly, poofy dresses, dungaree dresses, nightgowns, any dress Harrison could possibly think of. It only got worse when his new mom opened one of the drawers. Stuffed inside were rows of identical puffy white diapers, each with a My Little Pony wetness indicator. “You can wear these just until they run out, sweetie.”
Kudos: 65





	Harrison and the Sibling Switch-a-Roo

Hugging his sister tighter, Harrison swallowed as he looked at the pods in front of them. What seemed to be the entire school was squeezed into the damp Great Hall, buzzing with nervous activity. The smell of dinner still lingered from a hour prior, cabbage and beef broth, and it made Harrison feel sick.  
It was Adoption Week at St. Gideons’ Home for Orphaned Children. The adoption process for children had moved on rapidly since the 2010s. Nowadays, the adoption process was almost simulated. Potential adoptees would, at the beginning of Adoption Week, step into the pods in the Great Hall and then be beamed to their potential forever home, chosen by the pod. They would stay at this potential home for a week total, and at the end of the week their host family would decide whether they were a suitable pick. If they weren’t, they would be simultaneously beamed to a few hundred other potential homes – this taking only a handful of seconds in real time! - until a suitable pick was found.

…or at least, that’s what he was told.  
Harrison was a really rather grown up fifteen years of age; his younger sister, Harriet, was five. Harrison had never once been chosen for the pod process in all his years of staying at the children’s home. He had tried to tell himself that this was because of the pod process, that it was just finicky and hadn’t come across him yet. But his roommates, sixteen year old Lucian and seventeen year old George, had told him the real reason: he simply wasn’t cute enough or young enough, ‘and nobody wants a problem child’. Maybe that was why his heart was thudding so hard in his chest? Burying his nose into his sister’s scalp he breathed in the scent of her cherry shampoo. It wasn’t Harrison’s turn to be Podded – but Harriet’s. At five years old, with a gappy smile, glittering brown eyes and chestnutty hair tied into buns atop her head she was young and sweet -- and prime Pod fodder. Yes, even despite the fact that she still sucked her thumb and had to wear puffy Pull Ups under her dresses both day and night. Somehow, that made her extra cute. If it was Harrison, though, it was suddenly a problem.  
Still, the thought of her leaving him behind was enough to make Harrison’s lip quiver. Despite their age gap, they battled Children’s Home life together. Harrison always snuck into the girls’ wing to sneak Harriet extra biscuits at breakfast, and Harriet drew Harrison pictures for him to stick, sneakily, in his bedroom. 

“I wonder if they’ll have lots of toys for me, Harri?” Harriet asked, playing with Harri’s hoodie strings and beaming, bouncing on her toes. “I wonder if they know how much I like My Little Pony?”

“I bet they will, Hare,” Harri laughed, nervously.

Harriet looked up at the Pod. It towered, glowing bright white, over her – she stumbled back into her older brother for comfort. “It looks a bit scary.” 

Harri nodded, rubbing his little sister’s back. “It’s not, at least I don’t think so.” He encouraged. He didn’t have a clue, but he didn’t want his sister to enter the Pod upset. “I think you just stand there, like you do when you watch movies.”

“McKinnock? Harriet McKinnock?” asked a voice.

Harrison saw a teacher moving toward them with a megaphone and nudged his sister forward, eyes widening. “Look, it’s your turn!”  
This all seemed awfully fast. Harrison watched as his little sister got pulled into the throng of potential adoptees, disappearing into a Pod. His eyes welled with stinging tears, but he blinked and turned away. It must’ve only been eleven forty five. He had arithmetic at twelve o’clock, and his arithmetic teacher didn’t much like it if he cried and got smudges on his workbook, so he had better stop crying by then.

Except… well, except the calling continued. Which was odd, because Harriet had been Podded and had gone by now. Harrison turned around in confusion; the teacher who they had seen, walking toward them with a megaphone, was now even closer. She stepped over to Harrison now that he had locked eyes with her and tapped his shoulder.

“McKinnock?” she shouted through the megaphone, even though Harri was right there.

Harri grimaced, hunching his shoulders to escape the electronic squealing. “You’re looking for my sister,” he mumbled, pointing in the direction of the Pods. “She’s been Podded, she’s gone.”

“No,” the megaphone was lowered now with confusion, the teacher looked at her clipboard. “No, it says here…?” she said, as if Harrison was supposed to know that. “You were chosen, too. Quick!” she gestured to the Pod. “Stop wasting time, get in!”

Harrison gasped, gulping back a queasy feeling as he was ushered to a Pod. Stepping inside, time seemed to both slow down and speed up. St Gideons disappeared around him in a halo of bright white light… and Harrison had gone.  
~

“Mom, she’s here! She’s coming!”

“Oh, isn’t this exciting?”

Landing clumsily on his feet like a baby who had learned to walk for the first time, Harrison gasped. Instead of the glossy mezzanine floor of the St Gideons Great Hall that seemed to have mashed potato and old bits of carrot permanently ingrained into the grooves, his feet were touching carpet. It… had worked. It had worked!?

He allowed a smile of lazy relief to spread over his face and looked up at his new family. There was a woman, maybe in her forties – and a boy close to Harrison in age. Neither of them looked particularly happy to see him standing there. The smile of relief that came to Harri’s face fell in an instant.

“Oh, my…” 

“Mom, you said I was getting a sister!” the boy said. 

“Michael” the woman snapped, nudging him.

The boy’s arms folded and a frown ate up his face. “I wanted a sister to tease.” He mumbled. 

“Michael!” the woman snapped again, this time more severely, then lowered her voice and grit her teeth. “You are not too old to go over my lap!”

Slowly, she turned her attention to Harrison, and gave a delicate little laugh, as though Harrison hadn’t seen their obvious discomfort. “Hello, honey. Well, this is certainly a surprise, isn’t it? I think—I think something’s gone wrong, we were looking for a little girl, a Harriet McKinnock?”

Harrison’s heart sunk. “I’m Harrison,” he mumbled mutely, his toes bunching tight against the carpet. “Harrison McKinnock. Harriet’s my little sister.”

“Oh!” the woman smiled. “Well, it’s done now. My name is Angela – ‘Mommy’ to you, I should think!”--behind her, Michael sniggered, she elbowed him—"this is my son, Michael, your older brother. Your belongings were phased through first – I did wonder why there were so many Avengers action figures… Here, why don’t I show you to your room, darling?”

Harrison nodded mutely, tummy swirling with the adrenaline of it all.  
~

“Here you are, darling.” Angela smiled. “I’m sorry, we were so looking forward to getting a little girl. Never mind, can’t put it to waste, can we?” she cooed. Harrison could have been sick; the room he had been given was wall-to-floor pink. The bed was pink and covered in a tulle canopy, the dressing table was pink, the wardrobe was pink and patterned like a princess, the carpet was pink – everything was pink. On the furthest wall was a large Pinkie Pie mural. Lugging his suitcase inside, he hauled it on the bed and began to unpack his clothes. All the while Angela watched over him. When he got to his t-shirts and underwear, Angela laughed softly. “Oh darling, you don’t need them!”

Harrison frowned, curling in on himself a little bit. “…I don’t?” he asked, puzzled. “But… but they’re my clothes?” 

“I don’t want the clothes I got to go to waste.” His new mom opened the wardrobe to reveal – yes, more pink – rows and rows of dresses. Lacy, frilly, poofy dresses, dungaree dresses, nightgowns, any dress Harrison could possibly think of. “Look at all of these pretty dresses!”

Harrison whimpered, horrified, but it only got worse when his new mom opened one of the drawers. Stuffed inside were rows of identical puffy white diapers, each with a My Little Pony wetness indicator. “I heard your younger sister had issues with wetting and stocked up, I’m sure I have plenty to fit you. You can wear these just until they run out, sweetie.” 

Harrison wondered if he was in some sort of nightmare Disney movie. If maybe his new mommy was actually an evil Godmother who was going to curse him into wearing diapers forever. She held out a folded Pull Up, smiling. Pinkie Pie’s crinkled face smiled up at him from the wetness indicator; Harrison frowned, snatching the garments from the woman. “Thank you…” he said hesitantly, turning on his heel in search of the bathroom. He was just in the doorway when Angela grabbed his arm and tugged him to a stop. “On second thoughts, doll, I am your mommy now.” She hoisted him up under the armpits and plonked him down onto his princess bed, beaming, “So I should really change you. Little girls can’t be in charge of changing themselves, can they?” 

Harrison whimpered, fighting with the woman on instinct. “I’m a boy!” he pleaded desperately, face reddened, wriggling to try and free himself from her grasp. “I’m fifteen! I don’t—hnrk—I don’t—mmh!—need diapers! I- I can, I can keep myself dry!”

Angela squeezed him tightly, shushing him into a squeaked silence. “I’m your mother now,” she reiterated, “You will listen to me or there will be consequences. You are in no way too old to go over my lap.” Her voice was low and threatening and Harrison, weakened, went limp. Seizing her chance the woman flipped him over, yanked his jeans and boxers down, and hoisted his legs up. The cool air hit Harri’s skin and he whimpered, closing his eyes tight, but his new mother simply pressed his Pull Up to his crotch and tabbed it before sitting him up. “We will make a deal,” she said softly and nicely, “If you can keep these Pull Ups completely dry today, I will consider letting you go back to boxers for the rest of the week. Otherwise, it’s Pull Ups for you. If you misbehave, I will simply add extra to your outfit. A pacifier, perhaps, or some lace booties. You can end this week as a gorgeous little girl or indeed the charming young man I’m sure you are, but it’s your choice.”

“…and the dresses?” Harri swallowed, picking at a loose pink thread on the comforter.

“Non-negotiable.” 

Harri sighed but nodded. Who did she think she was? He was more than capable of keeping himself clean and dry, no matter what she thought. “…Deal.” He sulked, lifting his arms up. His mother lifted a cotton dress style romper over his head, snapping the buttons together at the crotch. The Pull Up was looser than he had expected, not as tight as he imagined a diaper was; but the romper made sure it was kept in snug. As he scrambled off of the bed he crinkled with every movement, not only from his Pull up but the layers of his dress, and his face flamed a gorgeous hot red. 

“Adorable!” said his new mother.  
~

Downstairs, in the kitchen, Angela had gathered Michael and Harri. “Harriet here is trying to keep her Pull Ups dry, Mikey. Isn’t that very brave? I want you to be very kind to her. Harriet, honey, here’s your star chart. If you stay dry you get a sticker.”

"It's Harrison." Harrison said moodily. "Harriet is my _sister_."

"That's nice, dear," New Mommy said, in the sort of tone that Harri used on his little sister when she told him she was a unicorn. Harri frowned at her. What was that all about?

After this, Angela left the new siblings alone. Michael looked Harri up and down, sniggering again. “You look like a Barbie doll.”

Harri grabbed his arm, hissing. “Please help me!”

Michael smirked. “Oh, I will.”  
~ 

Afterwards was lunch. Harrison’s new mother said that Podding was hungry work, and maybe he should settle into family life by having a proper family lunch together…? Despite all that his new mother had done to him so far Harrison couldn’t deny that he was hungry – having only had a 7am breakfast of jammy porridge. 

But he soon regretted asking for lunch when he saw the dining table. Around the six-seater table were two chairs – New Mommy’s chair at the head of the table and Michael’s chair next to it. A third chair stood tall next to at the other side of New Mother’s– pale pink, patterned with small princess crowns. Attached to the front of the chair was a large plastic tray.  
…A highchair. Harrison frowned, tummy swirling. He wasn’t sure why they had a highchair. His sister felt like a baby to him sometimes, sure, but she was five and much too big for a highchair. Ironically, she seemed much too small to fit in this highchair – it was huge, towering over the table. As New Mommy lifted Harrison up under the armpits, helped him into the chair, and buckled him in tight so he couldn’t escape, Harrison realised that the high-chair may not have been such a good fit for his baby sister, but it was a perfect fit for his bottom.

When New Mommy served up lunch, she served Michael a plateful of spaghetti and meatballs. What she served Harrison, he was sure, hadn’t seen a meatball in its life. She gave him a plastic bowl, with cut up pieces of spaghetti covered in a tomatoey orange looking puree, a small child’s spoon, and a plastic tumbler of water.  
She patted his cheek, settling into her seat just next to him. “Be very good and try not to get any tomato sauce on your pretty nightdress, sweetie pie, or Mommy will have to feed you instead, alright?”  
Michael giggled again; Harrison’s cheeks flamed, hot under New Mommy’s cheek, even more so when Mommy too started to giggle. “Yes,” he mumbled, picking up his spoon and poking around at the mush in his bowl. 

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Yes,” Harri mumbled, a little edge to his voice. He stuffed his mouth with puree and muttered through it. “ _Mommy_.”

New Mommy wasn’t as grumpy as Harri thought she would be for that – and lunch, although mushy, tasted fine. He finished his lunch with little fuss and gulped down water after water, which Mommy happily refilled from a pitcher on the table. By the time lunch was over Harrison’s tummy was pleasantly full… but he had drank so much water that he was, perhaps, a little too full. 

“In this house,” said New Mommy, “we always have quiet time after lunch.”

Rather than unclip Harri from his highchair, like he thought, she moved him – chair and all – toward the living area, in front of the television. Michael had gotten there first, though, and he was watching American Dad. Although it was Michael’s turn for pick of quiet time television this choice was deemed inappropriate for Harrison. Instead, she placed crayons on his tray, with a sheet of paper. ‘I’m sure baby will have much more fun with these.’  
Harrison fidgeted. He drew a few scribbles on the paper to appease his new Mommy, but the second she went to clean up he crumpled the paper and looked around, straining against the straps of his highchair with a little grunt. He really had to pee now - he could feel it pressing warm in his middle, inching downwards, and he was mindful of soaking his Pull Up because he knew he'd get scolded and lose the deal . Although colouring helped distract him for a little while, sometimes the tickles stomped to the front of his mind and he had to whimper and wriggle and press his hands to his crotch. The highchair forced his legs apart but yet his Pull Up was tight against his crotch, almost inviting, and he whimpered as a little dribble soaked, slow and warm, into the front of the padding.  
He had to get out of this chair, he just had to! Mommy had buckled him in at his sides and between his legs, and he frantically moved to unclip himself. Unfortunately, the position he was in meant he had to press even tighter on his middle than he had been just to undo the plastic buckles, and this made another few droplets leak into his thin padding. Panting a little, Harri rocked frustratedly in his chair, a tiny runway of warmth square in the middle of his Pull Up. Oh no, he thought to himself, please no, not now, not now, not now-- miraculously, with Harri shooting his thanks to every Sky Deity there ever was, the dribbles came to an awkward stop. Frantic still, his eyes came to Michael, who was kneeled on the floor. New Mommy had told him to be nice, hadn't she...? Leaning forward--breath hitching at the pulse in his bladder--he hissed. "Michael. Michael!"  
...Nothing. Maybe the fifteen year old was choosing not to listen to him, or maybe he was too engrossed in his show...? Picking up a crayon on his tray--Harrison squeezed it tight as he was hit by another urge and crossed his legs as tight as they would go--and as the urge passed, whimpering anxiously, Harrison torpedoed the crayon toward the boy. It hit him in the shoulder. 

"Ow!" Rubbing the jabbed spot, Michael shot an accusatory glare at his new sibling. "What the hell was that for, dick for brains?"

Harrison's stomach went to ice; he fidgeted again. "Help me!" he hissed. "Help me out of this highchair!"

Michael frowned, then smiled as he stood up. "...aw, do you need to get out?"  
Somehow, even though the highchair was huge and Michael didn't tower over it whatsoever, he looked scary. Even the way he spoke was scary; sickly sweet but certainly not as nice as Mommy had asked him to be, and suddenly Harrison was regretting asking. Still, he was getting desperate, and he nodded, desperately still.  
Michael smiled. Harrison's frantic gaze was glued to him but somehow didn't click on to what the teenager was doing as he picked up the pitcher of water from the dinner table. Going back over to the high chair, he leaned over as though he was about to unclip the boy--Harri's heart clenched, pleased, oh! maybe he had made the right decision after all--  
and--  
and poured the pitcher of water directly onto his crotch. Harrison squealed, "U- uh!" just like the little girl his new mommy wanted him to be, kicking his legs as though it would help him. "S- stop!" he squeaked pleadingly. Michael didn't stop, not until the pitcher was drained. The water soaked through the thin cotton of Harri's dress easily, and his Pull Up absorbed the liquid as if it were nothing. Eventually, though, the pitcher was too much for even his Pull Up - it began pooling underneath his bum and pitter-dripping down the legs of the highchair into a quickly-growing puddle on the floor. It had pooled, too, inside his Pull Up, all cold and wet - and this did nothing for his bursting bladder. He rocked in place, straining against his highchair straps again, Pull Up squelching slightly.  
"MOM!" shouted Michael, grinning at Harrison's struggle. "The baby wet their Pull Up!"

"Oh, no!" New Mommy trilled theatrically, pursing her lips as she swept into the room. Harrison hunched down in the seat, cheeks blazing with shame, but this didn't deter Mommy; she unclicked his buckle like it was nothing and lifted him up high under the armpits. 

This movement was too sudden for Harrison's bursting bladder. "I- I didn't!" he wept wildly, squirming in her arms-- but on cue, his grip on his bladder slipped and he began to pee. Pull Up already sopping wet, the amount he was voiding simply gushed out onto the floor - his dress see through and clinging to him, pee dripping down his legs and pattering noisily into the puddle on the floor. Harrison tried his hardest to keep the flitted look of relief from his face but his mouth dropped open all the same. If he hadn't wet himself before, he certainly had now. 

"Oh, darling," Mommy cooed, "it looks like you need diapers after all, not those flimsy old Pull Ups." she clutched him close, even as he cried at her and through panted breaths begged, 'Please-- please don't diaper me-e-e-e-e!'. 

Mommy said nothing about this, patting his back, and Harrison hated how the movement lulled him to silence. In the bedroom, legs akimbo, Mommy helped him into another Pull Up. She hadn't, as much as Harri pleaded with himself, forgotten their bet. As she re-dressed him, she rolled some lacy lilac mittens over his hands and tied them at the wrists. Whimpering, he flexed his hands inside the mittens, looking at them as though he was a baby discovering his hands for the first time. "How-- how am I gonna do stuff like this?" he croaked, head throbbing with the urge to burst into tears. He brought one hand to his face experimentally but was unable to scratch at himself, the soft cotton brushing against his forehead ineffectively.

"What baby does things by themselves?" Mommy shrugged. "Come on. You can play with your big brother."  
~

Sighing, Harri sat legs-spread on a blanket in the living room. Michael lay on his stomach a few feet away from him, clicking some Lego together. Mommy had bought him the Simpsons Lego set for Christmas last year, apparently, and Harrison was envious and dying to help Michael click it all together... except he had been denied access entirely. Mommy had handed him a bundle of Barbie dolls to play with and a few plastic tea cups. He half heartedly moved the dolls around while Mommy was near, but couldn't stop himself stealing longing glances at Michael's impressive Lego kit. The teenager could sense it too; he sighed grumpily and gestured for Harri to come over. 

"M- me?"

"What are you, thick?" Michael groaned. "Yeah, come on." 

Harrison hesitated, laying on his belly next to Michael and abandoning his Barbies. Michael didn't speak to him after this display of kindness, sectioning off a pile of his Lego for the boy and turning back to his own quietly. Harrison dug into the colourful pile with a hunger he hadn't realised he had, desperate to play with something fun rather than those silly old dolls. He poked his tongue out in sheer concentration trying to pick up the small bricks, but his mittened hand didn't allow him the room to pick up the tiny pieces. If he squeezed hard enough he could, but the bricks would tumble from his grip and skitter across the floor before he could connect the bricks to one another; his mittens were too slippery. After the fifth unsuccessful attempt Harrison groaned, thumping the bricks childishly. "These... these _stupid_ mittens!" he stammered, suddenly tearful. He just wanted to play with the Lego...! The Barbies were so _boring_...!

"Just take them off."

Harri whimpered, tears pooling in his eyes. 

"Take them off!" Michael sighed. "God. Mom's right, you really are a baby. Look," he lifted Harri's hand in front of his face forcefully, "...they have string ties. You can just take them off." Sighing over dramatically, he pulled at one of the strings and loosened a mitten. 'Oh'ing in surprise, through tears, Harrison pulled at the remaining string ties with his teeth and got his mitten off.  
Sighing in relief, his tears dried quickly as he buried himself into his Lego, and the two siblings were quiet.

...but as any Mommy knows, a silent child is a mischievous one. Putting her mug into the sink, Angela swept back into the living room to see what her children were doing. Seeing the Barbie dolls abandoned on the floor stung a tiny bit - they were perhaps a work in progress, then - but the sight of her new youngest, mittens off, was what hurt. "Harriet!" she gasped, hurt and anger feathering her voice. To make matters worse, Harri wasn't used to being referred to as 'Harriet', and didn't pay his new mother any attention.  
"Harriet!" she exploded, louder this time--and her newest baby girl snapped toward her in an instant. "You took those mittens off!" she accused. "You and I had a deal, missus!" Bending down, she swung Harri up by the hand. "But since you want to disobey me so badly, I think you need to learn a lesson!" She dragged him toward the kitchen, and every whimper, whine, or 'not my fault!' that bubbled from Harri's mouth was silenced. "There's only one place for disobedient little girls like you, and that's over my lap!" Coming to a stop, she drew Harri's hands roughly into his mittens then tied and tucked them tightly so that he couldn't pull them off independently. She tugged roughly at Harri's dress so that the poppers burst open, and yanked down his Pull Up.

...Slumped bare-bottomed over Mommy's lap, Harri almost dared to think it wouldn't be that bad. Sure, he had never been spanked before, but Mommy didn't have a cane or the heavy buckle of a belt handy like the horror stories Lucian had told him about how certain Pod parents punished their disobedient kids. Neither did he see her getting a paddle. He waited in anticipation, letting out a whimpered sniffle, and braced himself for THWACK! the-- THWACK THWACK --ow!  
Although Mommy didn't have a belt handy, she had a wooden spoon, and the thick curve of it swung down hard against his bumcheek with such force that it took his breath away. Catching it again was an effort when two quick spanks came alongside it, and tears drove themselves quickly to Harri's cheeks. "Ouch!" he blubbed, voice thick and wet, body rigid. "Ow, Mommy!" Through sheer instinct his hands balled to fists and he flailed, desperate to get away, but Mommy's large hands held him in place. That, and his stupid mittens rendered him helpless and defenceless, anyway.

"Don't you dare hit Mommy!" said Mommy, punctuating her point with nice sharp swings of the spoon. 

"Stoppit! Stoppit!" Harri blubbered helplessly, but Mommy did not. She peppered his bum with spanks, watching as the pale, soft skin reddened angrily with each hit. By the time she had gotten to fifteen even she was sure she could feel the aching heat radiating from his now-battle-scarred bottom. Harrison, having learned that Mommy didn't listen to his whining pleads, was now red-faced with pained sobbing. He lifted his face up from where it was buried in her silk skirts and oh, to look at him was pitiful. His face was marbled red-and-white through tears, the telltale glittered tracks gleaming on his cheeks, his lips were plump from where he had bitten them to keep himself from crying out, and his nose had began to run. "That hurt." he mumbled, sulkily. 

"It's supposed to. How else do baby girls learn a lesson?" Mommy said. She sat him up and rubbed his back, shushing him lightly when he mewled in pain at having to sit on his scorching bum. "Your punishment is not over, Harriet." she told him. "Please lift your arms so I can re-dress you."

Puzzled, Harrison lifted his arms up. Mommy slipped another romper over his head, this one a soft baby pink with puffed satin sleeves - but rather than slide a Pull Up over his crotch and button the romper up over it, as Harrison had quickly come to expect, she did not. With a small prod she urged him off of her lap, stood with him, and took him by the hand. She led him back through the kitchen, across the living room, and drew him to a spot in front of the living room mirror. "Look at your new romper, sweetheart, isn't it pretty?"

Harri looked at himself, blinking tears away from his lashes. "I- I guess..." he choked, scared to disobey after his spanking, even if the sight of it made him feel sick. This romper looked very much like a tutu. A baby pink leotard with matching puffed satin sleeves covered his top half, and a giant poofy tulle skirting just about preserved his dignity... in the front, anyway. His bare bum was still stinging, and the cool air skimmed his backside as he walked. The fabric was cut nice and high on the back, giving anyone and everyone a good view of his backside if they caught him at a certain angle. His red backside, covered in angry curved red welts.

Mommy nodded. "Good. I'm sure you won't mind wearing it for time out, then?" She spun him to face the corner of the room, bare arse on full, blistering red display to anyone who peered in from the front door porch or kitchen area. 

Harrison nodded meekly, although his lip was quivering and tears were beginning to trickle down his cheeks. "I look... I look awful!" he bawled.

"...Nonsense. You look like a gorgeous little girl! Michael is having a few friends over, they can see how well you took your punishment, too!" Mommy cooed. 

Harrison gasped, spinning around, hands coming to shield his bottom. A look of horror flooded his features. "I- I don't want them to see-- to see my..."

"Well," Mommy shrugged, "You should've been good!" She spun him around to the wall again. "They'll be right over. And I hope you don't make a big puddle on my nice wooden floor!"  
~

"Lucas! Josh!" Michael enthused, clapping a hand on his friends' shoulders by way of greeting them; the brothers grinned and chattered in return. At fifteen the three friends were much too cool to 'play' together, even if that was always what they did. It had always just been the three of them, and Michael's mom always said she liked the sound of them playing. But when the boys entered Michael's home this time, there was an interloper.  
A half naked interloper.  
In a dress.  
A pink dress.  
A pink, poofy princess dress.  
With his red bottom. There. Out. On display.  
Lucas shared a glance with his brother, not quite sure what he had walked into. Sure, Michael's mom had always been a bit weird, but this was a step too far. "Mike, who the hell is that?" he giggled uncomfortably, having to tear his glance away from... it. The smacked bottom. 

"Ignore her," Michael shrugged, gesturing. "I told you I was getting a sister, didn't I? Well, there she is. She was naughty and this is her punishment. Part of it, anyway"

Harrison stood silently, welling up and reddening as much (if not more) than his bum. "I'm a boy!" he squeaked. He could feel all eyes on him, and his heart thudded with nerves. 

"Yeah right," Josh snorted, "In that dress?" Harri's face was beet red by this point. He wanted to disappear through the floor. Josh was right. He wasn't boyish at all. Not in a dress as flouncey and pink as this. 

"Anyway. Let's go play Xbox." Michael shrugged, running toward the kitchen pantry for snacks. 

Josh studied Harrison with curiosity before turning away. "What? Really?!" he whined softly. "You just got a whole new sibling and you're not gonna mess with them?!" he whispered, grinning. 

"What do you think I should do?" Michael frowned. He was hunting through the pantry, pulling bags of Cheetos onto the counter. 

Aside him, Josh rooted through the drawers. "Oh, this!" grinned Josh, "definitely this!"

"...Here, Harri." Michael whispered sweetly, holding out the square of chocolate. "I'm soooo sorry for how mean I was earlier." he widened his eyes in sympathy. "This is for you. Peace offering, yeah?"

Harri frowned, stuffing the square of chocolate into his mouth. "F'nks.." he muttered around the square. Michael patted his shoulder, a big plastic smile on his face. As he hurried upstairs, he stuffed the Ex-Lax wrappings into his pocket.  
~

Unfortunately for Michael and his friends, nothing happened - and so Harri was deemed boring compared to playing Fortnite with one another. Harri completed his time out and was put into a Pull-Up once more. With Michael's friends on their way home, Mommy suggested that maybe Michael could play with Harri a little more before dinner?  
Grudgingly, Michael took his new sibling outdoors. Being outside with Michael made Harri relax a bit more; he wasn't really sure Michael wanted to baby him and-- and girlify him-- like New Mommy did. That, and his tummy was aching. He sort of felt like he needed to squat down or lay on his belly or something. Shifting foot-to-foot or moving around a little distracted him, though, and so that was what he did; hands pressing lightly to his still-stinging bottom. "What... what do you want to do?" he asked Michael timidly. 

"You could see my old treehouse, if you want." Michael shrugged. He was too old for it now, but since Mom had decided his new sibling was a big baby - and a girl - maybe he would enjoy it a bit more. It could be... he didn't know, a-- a dollhouse, or something. Leading Harri to the end of the backyard, the siblings climbed the humongous tree and ducked into the treehouse together. It was pretty dusty now - home to a fair few spiders and limply hanging cobwebs. The blue paint was crusting off of the walls and all the graffiti Michael had scribbled on it was faded. The elder sibling looked out of the window to his cannon; the only part of the treehouse he still liked. "Mom will probably give this to you now, little girl," said Michael unenthusiastically. 

"T- this is cool..?" Harri mumbled, sitting on the couch and fidgeting with uncomfortable realisation. He needed to fill his Pull Up. He really, really needed to fill his Pull Up, so he didn't care about the treehouse. Standing again, he paced the floor and looked at his new brother. Maybe if he asked really nicely he'd let him go? Or, or was he like New Mommy and would force him to use his diaper..? "I, um," he stammered, bending. Imagining telling his new sibling what was the matter. Michael had already forced him to wet. At this he would probably just laugh...  
When Michael gave him a questioning glance he shook his head. "Nothing.."  
His stomach argued otherwise; it churned something fierce, it gurgled, it pushed and pressed and pleaded. The mass in his stomach shifted downwards, sort of crowning, and his lips parted in an uncomfortable squeak as he clenched his entire body. Then he thought of making the journey to the toilet. It seemed so far away from here! So unfairly far! He would crouch and -- oh he really needed to crouch and -- fill his Pull Up long before he got there!

Michael frowned. His new sibling looked a bit funny. He'd gone white. Suddenly, Michael remembered the Ex-Lax. He wondered briefly why Harri hadn't used his diaper yet, but supposed that if his Mom was doing this to him, he wouldn't want to... go... in front of anybody, either. Not on purpose. He felt, almost, a little bit bad. "Um, I'm gonna, I'm gonna get us a drink..." he swallowed unsurely, and as Harri nodded desperately at him he sprinted down the tree again. 

The second Michael had gone Harri let out a gorgeous sigh of relief - and he hadn't even gone yet. In the corner of the treehouse there was a couch. Harri straddled the arm of the couch, groaning as he tooted and trumpeted and made all sort of rude noises. "Hnnnhgg... rnnhgg.." he grunted, happy to be loud now that he was alone. The laxatives made it remarkably easy for him to fill his Pull Up - one more nice big grunt and, "A-ah!", mouth dropping open in happy, empty bliss, Harri had well and truly loaded his Pull Up. Then a little bit more, then, shifting and bearing down, a little bit more still. By the time Harri was truly empty his Pull Up was sagging down from his bottom, warm and sticky on his skin. The feeling of emptiness in his stomach was blissful. Harri slumped forward, happy, relishing the sensation, eyes closed.

Unfortunately for Harri, Pull Ups weren't quite made for mess. "Urgh, God!" Michael grimaced, waving his hand in front of his face as he ducked into the treehouse with a can of soda. "Urgh, it's all-- it's all gone up your _back_! I thought it was meant to hold it all! Get out, get out!"

Whimpering, Harrison slid from the couch. The weight of his Pull Up forced him to bow his legs and waddle a bit. Now that Michael had brought his attention to it the relief disappeared; instead it was cooling a little, sticking to his back, his bum, the tops of his thighs. "Oh." he stammered unsurely, fidgeting as his chin trembled. 

"Don't stand there, _go_!" Michael shouted, gagging. "Go to Mom. She'll bath you."

Harri trailed out of the treehouse, waddling stickily, Pull Up bloated comically beneath his dress.  
~

"Oh, look at you," Mommy cooed when he positioned himself in front of her, "You stinky little girl!"  
She lifted Harri up under the armpits, squishing his Pull Up tight against his skin, and the disgraced Harri began to softly weep into her shoulder. Mommy wasn't angry with him - Mommy was delighted. He had done what every little girl did sometimes, she crooned, and that was fine. Harri wanted so badly to scream at her that he was a boy and he wasn't all that little, but the thought of further, embarrassing punishment was enough to shut him up for now. He hung his head as he was sluiced clean stood in the bathtub. To 'cheer him up' afterwards Mommy drew him a bath, but not even the bubblegum scented bubble bath she glopped into the water helped any. 

"You have such gorgeous hair, Princess," Mommy cooed, carding her fingers through Harri's messy blonde fringe and soaping it up with shampoo. "Maybe I can put it into little pixie pigtails for you? Would you like that? I have some Disney Princess hair clips somewhere..."

Harri shrugged, and then suddenly he was trapped with his new Mommy, practically in a headlock as she scraped every lock of hair into a tiny springy pigtail. Harri let her do it, saying nothing. By the time he was dried his hair stuck up in odd tiny tufts - it wasn't quite Rapunzel length yet, and sort of looked as though his sister had had a good hack at it in a desperate attempt to drag it all into pigtails. It was close to bedtime now so instead of the tutu style rompers he was dressed in a thin nightdress with a smiling Paw Patrol puppy on the front. Alongside his Pull Up he now wore plastic pants, that snapped tightly over the front of his Pull Up to 'hold in all those big stinkies!', and the dreaded mittens.

On Tuesday, waking up wet, Harri's Pull Ups were swapped for diapers. After shouting at Mommy, he was also the proud owner of a large lavender coloured pacifier, which was plugged into his mouth at any available opportunity - apart from the moments when he paused to load his diaper and poked his tongue out, blissful.

On Wednesday, after a night of little sleep - nightmares of being whisked away to the Children's Home again - Harri began having a bedtime bottle of warm milk, and had to bury his face into a ragdoll for comfort.

On Thursday, she decided she liked her dresses after all, they made her feel pretty, much prettier than she was as a boy.

On Friday, she played with Barbies all afternoon, and didn't want to even look at Mikey's Lego.

By the end of the week, Harrison wasn't quite sure he--she? was Harrison any more. The girl that stared back at her--him? in the mirror, with her scraped back blonde hair adorned in glittery clips, princess patterned diaper and tutu romper, certainly wasn't a Harrison. In the morning she fought Michael for the pink bowl at breakfast and her after-lunch quiet time was taken up by Doc McStuffins, My Little Pony, or Fifi and the Flowertots. She simply couldn't keep her pretty Pull Ups clean enough for Mommy, so she quickly wore diapers instead - diapers that were checked every hour because she wouldn't be trusted to be truthful. What little girl could? Especially one in diapers?  
The Avengers action figures she had come to Mommy's house with must've been an accident, maybe this silly little girl had picked up the wrong bag? After all, she was a Harriet, not the 'HARRISON' printed in large letters across the rucksack. Mikey had taken the action figures, anyway, because he was happy to play rough and tumble battles, and Harriet really quite preferred brushing Rapunzel's pretty twinkly hair or having a tea party with her rag dolls and Barbies.  
Mommy said that she didn't need to go back to St Gideons any more, because Mommy had made her decision the second she had laid her eyes on this gorgeous, compliant little girl - that she was going to be Mommy's little girl forever with her big brother Mikey. 

...And wasn't that just wonderful?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so it's a future where Fortnite, Xbox, MLP et al still exist, shhhh.


End file.
